Turning the Tide

by Edith Maxwell

  The room couldn’t have been more different from the spacious Dodge home on High Street in Newburyport, with its ornate drapery, delicate chairs, plush fabrics, its large rooms and windows. I far preferred the room I sat in now. Would David and I be able to find a comfortable middle ground between the two styles when we set up housekeeping together? And would that day ever come? It seemed like an eon had passed since he’d proposed marriage in July, when it was really only a few short months.

  I put my feet up and closed my eyes again. My head pain had eased somewhat. But sleep didn’t come. It was crowded out by visions of someone strong swinging a hard object at my head. By Hilarius’s odd reaction to my asking about the carriage. By Zula’s too-long pause in responding to my question about her whereabouts during the storm. And by knowing my attacker and the murderer—I assumed they were one and the same—still walked free.

  Was there any detail I’d missed, any connection I’d failed to make? If I weren’t so fragile from my beating, I might go pay a call on Mabel Roune. Annie had reported Mabel said Oscar was given to fits of temper and jealousy. I was interested in knowing the details of those fits. I still suspected he had something to do with Rowena’s death, despite his absence from the scene of the crime. And the society matron Mabel might well have refused to share such details with a lowly police officer. But my morning had taught me I wasn’t ready to dive back into detecting unless I could do it from where I sat right now.

  How could I find out where Zula had been during the snowstorm? Again I rued my injury. If I was able to venture out, I was certain I could find a way to interview one of her servants. Surely on a Fourth Day they would have been at the house and would know if she’d gone out in her runabout or had stayed home. That would at least be one bit of information. The same went for Elbridge’s whereabouts. The Osgoods employed at least the one maid and likely a cook and a stable man, too. I wasn’t quite sure how I could approach the household staff, though.

  It was all moot. I wasn’t going anywhere. I resolved to let Kevin and his crew do their jobs. My task for the moment was to heal, and to get ready for the challenge of dinner with Clarinda.

  twenty-nine

  A simple repast this was not. I was seated next to David, with his father at the end of the table on my left, in their elegant dining room. Clarinda held place of honor at the other end. Mother was to her right and thin, fair-haired Benjamin Lehigh sat in turn on Mother’s right. The other three guests were cordial, but I felt hard pressed to find common ground with them.

  David had kindly sent a driver in a Rockaway to pick up Mother and me. I’d donned my best and newest dress, a simple style in a deep red fabric, and I’d done my hair as nicely as I could in honor of the occasion, coiling my braid loosely over my wound and pinning it in place. Mother had worn her best dress, too, and we both sported fresh lace collars. Clarinda, of course, was in a matronly sky blue silk version of the latest style with the narrower sleeves and plentiful embroidery. The other older lady at the table wore a similarly cut gown. The younger one, who sat on the other side of widower Benjamin, was the most fashionably dressed. She wore a gown suitable for her age, which boasted a deep ruffled neckline, ribbed silk bodice, and brocaded satin skirt, all in shades of pinks and blues.

  Perhaps Clarinda was trying to act the matchmaker, pairing her up with Benjamin, who had lost his wife some years before and raised his two daughters by himself. Benjamin was around fifty, but he was very much a proponent of healthy, energetic pastimes like swimming, tennis, and hiking. He projected a much younger and more energetic image than what one normally would expect of a man his age. He was dressed tonight in a dark suit with a flashing red cravat. Although a Quaker, he was also a prosperous lawyer and given to bursts of color in his attire.

  David had inquired in a low voice about my health when we’d arrived, and I’d told him I was feeling somewhat better, but I refrained from telling him about my over-active morning.

  So far we’d already had a delicious oyster soup, crispy fried smelts with tartare sauce, and a creamed chicken in puff pastry cups Clarinda referred to as vol-au-vent. Now the young uniformed servant was coming around with a platter holding slices of beef roast, offering Polish sauce and grape jelly as accompaniments. I didn’t know how he managed to keep his white gloves free of both the bloody beef juice and the purple jelly, but he did.

  “Eat up now, Rose,” David’s father Herbert said, his blue eyes twinkling as always, both the color and the expression echoing David’s own. “We need to put meat on those slender bones of yours.”

  “I’m doing my best, Herbert.” I had a slender build, it was true, just like my mother’s.

  “Mr. Dodge, don’t be rude,” Clarinda admonished from her position as reigning hostess. She sipped her wine.

  David’s knee nudged mine and I glanced at him to see a fond smile directed at me. I’d never have gotten through this evening without him. Of course, I wouldn’t have needed to without him, either.

  “Mr. Lehigh,” David said. “Did you win your match?”

  “No, more’s the pity. Lost to the Amesbury team.”

  “What type of match would that be, Benjamin?” I asked.

  “Cricket. Love the sport. It’s all very Britishy.”

  I smiled. “Who plays on the Amesbury team? Perhaps I’m acquainted with some of the gentlemen, if there are any Friends among them.”

  “Mostly lawyers and doctors, including a man with the unusual given name of Elbridge.”

  I looked up from my plate. Benjamin seemed to be sending a message with his eyes, but I couldn’t imagine what it was.

  All the guests except Mother and I were partaking of wine, even Quaker Benjamin, which surprised me. David had barely touched his drink, though, and I was happy with water. Another servant followed the beef with cauliflower in cream sauce and a potato soufflé. Goodness, I was going to burst. I requested small portions of each.

  “Rose,” Benjamin said in his surprisingly deep voice. “I hear thee had several unfortunate encounters recently.” Being a lawyer, he’d no doubt had heard about Rowena’s death.

  I peeked at Clarinda. She was carefully cutting her slice of beef and not looking at either Benjamin or me. Was talking about murder inappropriate in polite company? Well, it was her guest who’d brought it up.

  “It’s true, I’m afraid,” I said.

  “David told me you’re involved in another murder,” Herbert said. “Bless my boots, how positively thrilling.”

  The lady across from me gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. The man seated to Clarinda’s left on the same side of the table as me leaned forward to look at me.

  “Is this true?” he asked. “You must tell us all about it.”

  Clarinda’s knife clattered on her plate. “Is it entirely necessary to have this kind of conversation at the dinner table?” She glared at Herbert.

  “Now, now, dear,” Herbert said. “It can’t hurt. It’s all the talk down at the shop.”

  It was? In Newburyport? Was I becoming infamous? My head began to pound again.

  “Do the police have any good leads?” Benjamin asked. “It’s been, what, five days since thee found the body?”

  I nodded. “Rowena Felch was killed Seventh Day night. I happened to be passing her home First Day morning and noticed her …” I caught myself before saying the word corpse. “Lying under a bush,” I finished. “As for leads, the detective has identified several suspects but has not uncovered sufficient evidence to convict a suspect, as far as I know.”

  “David tells me Mr. Bauer, the fellow who did a bit of work here, was arrested recently,” Herbert said. “When I employed him, I found him honest and of good character.”

  “I’ve met him and he struck me the same way,” I said. “He was arrested, but later released for lack of evidence.”

  “I might have a piece of information for thee
,” Benjamin said. “I will share it before we part company tonight.”

  I gazed at him. A piece of information? About the murder, apparently. And one he didn’t want to share with the rest of the party. I was dying to know what it was, but I was clearly going to have to wait.

  “Rose herself was attacked yesterday,” David said. “She figured how to escape to safety entirely without help.”

  The younger woman across from me stared, blinking. “What a trying situation. And how brave you are.” She ran her gaze over me like she was admiring a statue of Joan of Arc.

  “You most certainly are a brave soul, Rose,” Herbert said, smiling at me.

  Clarinda’s neck grew red and her eyes flashed. Was she going to admonish me again for being an independent businesswoman? In her world, ladies didn’t get themselves into situations like finding bodies and being out alone, which I was sure in her mind only invited the attack. She pressed her lips together in a thin line, apparently thinking the better of scolding me at her own festive supper party.

  “Clarinda, I don’t think I told thee about our suffrage work on Election Day,” my mother said.

  If she thought this was a good change of subject, she was in for a surprise. I knew Clarinda did not approve of women pushing for the vote. Was Mother trying to ruin her newfound rapport with David’s mother?

  The younger woman across looked relieved at not having to hear about murder and attacks. “I heard about the demonstration,” she said with interest in her voice. “I wish we had accomplished the same here in Newburyport. You had over a hundred women there, isn’t that right?”

  Benjamin turned and looked at her with surprise, as if she’d finally gotten his attention by saying something of substance.

  “Indeed we did,” Mother replied. “The famous suffragist Elizabeth Cady Stanton stood with us. John Whittier lent his support for a time, too, standing in the line for all to see.”

  “He did?” Clarinda asked, her voice rising.

  “Yes, Clarinda,” I ventured. “He said it was a worthy cause.”

  “I hope women gain the vote, and soon.” David tapped his glass with his knife, then raised it. “Here’s to universal suffrage.”

  “Hear, hear.” Herbert lifted his glass, too.

  I raised my glass, as did the others. Clarinda was last, but she finally followed suit. Had the world turned on its end? More likely, her deep admiration for John Whittier had overruled her opposition to the movement.

  thirty

  By eight o’clock I thought I would explode. After the soufflé we’d been served, in succession, rice croquettes, larded grouse with bread sauce, potatoes à la Parisienne, and dressed celery. Then came the desserts: Royal Diplomatic Pudding, raspberry sherbet, vanilla ice cream, an orange cake, sliced apples, coffee, crackers, and cheese. The pudding was a work of art, with an outer moulded ring of jellied cherries, an inner mould of the same, and the space in between filled with a rich custard. The cheeses were from France, and one in particular was deliciously soft and creamy, but I was too full to enjoy it.

  I was not accustomed to such quantity and such richness of food. How in the world did David keep his trim physique if he ate like this all the time? My energy was flagging from both the surfeit of calories and my injury, and I wished I were already tucked into my bed.

  “Shall we go through, gentlemen?” Herbert asked the men. “I’ve a bottle of excellent port I’ve been saving.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “Mrs. Dodge, that was a fine meal. A very fine meal, indeed.” He beamed, patting his stomach.

  Clarinda inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Ladies, if you’ll come with me.” Benjamin hurried around behind her and held her chair as she rose.

  Mother glanced at me and stood, as well. “I’m afraid I need to take my daughter home. She suffered a head wound in the attack and needs her rest. Please forgive us for an abrupt departure.”

  “Of course, of course.” Herbert rang for a servant and asked for the driver to bring the carriage around.

  I shot Mother a grateful look before addressing our hostess. “I thank thee for the invitation, Clarinda. I very much enjoyed this lovely evening.”

  “I’m happy you were able to join us, with your busy schedule and all.” Clarinda’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  I only smiled back at her, ignoring the barb her words delivered. Mother and I both said our good-byes all around and David took my elbow. We’d stepped into the front hall when Benjamin appeared at my side. Of course, the thing he wanted to tell me. What could it be?

  “May I have a brief word?” he asked in a low tone.

  “Of course. David, Mother, I’ll be right out.”

  David raised his eyebrows but held the door open for my mother. After it closed, I turned to Benjamin. “Thee knows something about Rowena’s death?”

  He checked the hall, which was empty except for us. The doors to the parlor and the library were closed, too. “I know of the events leading to her promotion at Bixby & Batchelder, and I know thee has done thy share of detective work in the past,” he said. “Thee should be careful, Rose. I have had a few dealings with Elbridge Osgood, including on the cricket pitch. I believe he suffers from a kind of illness of the psyche.”

  “Illness of the psyche. I have made a small study of such things as part of my quest to better treat my pregnant clients. Please go on.”

  “I’ve seen Osgood in court. He can be unpredictable in temperament and reason. Sometimes brilliant, but sometimes almost illogical and with a great anger.”

  Elbridge sounded like Frederick.

  “I have reason to believe he is being suspected for Rowena’s murder.” Benjamin continued keeping his voice low. “Does thee know this?”

  “In fact I’ve talked with the detective about him.”

  David opened the front door. “Rose? The driver is waiting.”

  “I’m just coming,” I told him.

  “Be careful is my only message,” Benjamin said, locking his gaze on my face. “All right?’’

  “Of course.”

  “It was good to see thee and thy mother tonight,” he added.

  “And to see thee. I know she enjoyed meeting another Friend. I appreciate thy caution about Elbridge, and I shall heed it.” I turned toward David, then paused and glanced back. Benjamin’s face was etched with concern.

  Before David handed me into the covered carriage, he murmured, “I’m going to do what I can to convince my Mother about our union, yours and mine. I’m a grown man and can marry whom I like, of course, but I’d rather have her blessing.”

  “I doubt my conversation tonight helped thy cause. Talk of attacks, bodies, and murder at the dinner table very much displeased her, I think.” The temperature had dropped precipitously since we’d gone into dinner. The moon wasn’t yet up, and the glittering star diamonds that littered the black sky did nothing to warm me as I pulled my cloak closer about me.

  “Don’t worry. I know she’ll grow to love you in time.”

  I very much doubted it. “I’m not so certain.” I mentally scolded myself for forgetting to seek out lovely yarn for Clarinda. I could’ve brought it to her tonight as a kind of hostess gift. Anything to gain her favor.

  “It will come to pass, I’m sure of it.” David chastely kissed my cheek, since Mother sat just inside the carriage, and we said our good-byes.

  As we clattered toward the bridge over the Merrimack, Mother said, “What an astonishing repast. Why, I would be as round as a washtub if I ate such meals all the time.”

  “I would, too. I doubt it’s their everyday fare. At least I hope not. I don’t think such rich food is good for the health.” I gazed out the window for a moment, feeling dejected about my prospects with both Clarinda and Amesbury Friends. “Mother, does thee think I’ll ever marry David?” I heard my voice whine and hated the sound, but whiny was
how I felt. Where had my normal strength gone, my usual determination? Had the head injury changed my personality?

  She twisted in the seat to face me. “If thee wants to, thee will.” She covered my hand with hers.

  “But where ever will we hold the ceremony? If I’m to be expelled, Amesbury Friends won’t allow the Meeting for Marriage to be held in the Meetinghouse. And I can’t imagine being married in David’s mother’s church, with all its ornate trappings. Organ music and incense, can thee just imagine?”

  She laughed softly. “No, I can’t. But doesn’t David attend other services?”

  “Yes, he does, with the Unitarians at the First Religious Society. He brought me to the church once, just to look inside, and it’s quite lovely. Not as simple as our Meetinghouse, of course, but still full of light and much less ornate than other churches.”

  “Maybe his church would be a possibility, then.”

  “Maybe.” I closed my eyes and sank back into the seat to try to ease the returned pounding of my head.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “Thee knows our Lawrence Meeting is much less strict than some about certain practices. And it was thy own Meeting for many years. It would make sense to have thy Meeting for Marriage there, if they are willing. Women of many different faiths often return to their homes to be married.”

  My eyes flew open again and I sat up straight. “Mother, what brilliance. Does thee think they would accept me?”

  “It’s worth a try. I’ll write the clerk of the Women’s Meeting a letter tomorrow. Not an official application, just to get a sense of what she thinks.”

  I leaned against her shoulder, closing my eyes again. “Mother, I love thee.”

  She laughed again. “Well, that’s good, because I plan to be thy mother for a goodly long time yet. I do hope thee will be able to avoid entangling with any more attackers in future.”

  “I do, too. Kevin will have to apprehend the current one first, though.” And I hoped it happened sooner rather than later. Benjamin’s words echoed in my mind. Elbridge was unpredictable in temperament and reason. Sometimes brilliant, but sometimes almost illogical and with a great anger. And in court, in full view of his peers. What was he like in private?